I hear a song in the air,
its beat felt more than heard,
like a heart, steady and dependable,
creating its own music.
There are two dancers in the distance,
a quiet image in thought and time.
I watch them as their movements alter,
wondering at the bond I see.
Sometimes the dance is face to face but at a small distance,
with hands of One enfolding those of the other.
They move in quiet circles, their faces reflecting
joy in each other’s presence.
A dance of friendship.
Sometimes the dance is shared with others
in a whirling circle or a hand-clasped line.
They move, first one way, then another,
laughing to the sound of unseen instruments.
A dance of joy.
Sometimes the head of one rests on the Other’s shoulder,
or tucked under the chin as a lamb would be.
Arms encircle one another in gentle tenderness,
softly swaying as whispers are shared.
A dance of comfort.
Sometimes in this same close position
the hand of the encircled reaches
to touch the scars on the brow and face
of the Encircler, and weeps.
A dance of gratitude.
There is a bond between these two,
deep, yet chaste,
complete, yet honorable,
a created one with the Creator.
It is my Lord and I.
A dance of life.